


Better Off Dead (or Frozen in Carbonite)

by ms_nawilla



Series: Star Wars One Shots and Abandoned WIPS [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Bad Humor, Botched rescue, Carbonite, Gen, Humor, change one thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 01:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_nawilla/pseuds/ms_nawilla
Summary: There are worse fates than being fed to the Sarlacc.





	Better Off Dead (or Frozen in Carbonite)

**Author's Note:**

> More of my 2019 Fanfic Rescue project. This is a one shot, thankfully. I'm probably dating myself, but if you lived through the nineties (and weren't a toddler), you'll understand. Originally written around the year 2000.
> 
> This was originally posted on theForce.net's Jedi Council boards in response Jemmiah's "Take Two! Alter any scene in the films and change the course of history!" challenge thread.
> 
> https://boards.theforce.net/threads/take-two-alter-any-scene-in-the-films-and-change-the-course-of-history.1294561/
> 
> Most of the responses were hilarious. This was one of mine (under my old fic name) and was supposed to be funny. At the time it was.

* * *  
  
He came awake slowly, the blinding light shattering his frozen brain like a thousand ice picks. Something was happening. Something was happening and nothing had not been not happening for a very long time.   
  
A physical jolt. He had moved. Did he move up, or fall down, or maybe just his head fell off? He didn't know, couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't feel . . .  
  
An arm, or some sort of appendage around his chest. A voice, gravely to his ears. Did the voice really sound like that or were did his ears fall off when his head hit whatever it must have hit when he fell down . . . or was it up?  
  
"Just relax."  
  
"I can't see." Well, his own voice sounded normal. Of course, his whole face was still kind of prickly, so he had no idea whether his voice was only in his own head, or if he had actually voiced his concerns.   
  
"You're suffering hibernation sickness. Your sight will return in time." Oh. He guessed he had actually said something. Groping, he reached out for the source of the voice, then recoiled in fear when he met only a grimy metallic surface.  
  
"Who are you?" The mysterious caretaker pulled away and made rustling sounds, as it removed it's helmet. He reached out again, confused by the soft, felt-like texture.  
  
"SOMEONE who LOVES YOU!!!" The lights in the chamber flared to life and a blur of purple and green confirmed his suspicions.  
  
"NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"  
  
"I love you, you love me, we're a happy family, . . ."   
  
The wretched purple dinosaur picked up the blind (and unfortunately not deaf) smuggler-turned-rebel Han Solo in a bear hug, squeezed the life (and most of the breath) out of him, then happily carried him off to his lair beneath Jabba's throne where he could play and sing and dance with the Corellian and all the droid's EV9 sent his way. He had been a little sad when the pretty green lady with the things growing out of her head had been taken away in one of those white coats with the funny sleeves, screaming about not wanting to play anymore, but now he had Captain Solo to play with! Who knows what they could do?  
  
* * *   
  
Far above, Jabba lurched forward, intent on seeing how Captain Solo reacted to his newest pet. The Rancor had had a certain style, but had required so many humanoids to feed. This . . . Barney was all fluff. Required no food. Some sort of aberrant life form. The Jedi would be helpless.  
  
Salacious Crumb mumbled to himself and dug out his sizeable earplugs before turning back to the atrocities and cackling wickedly. Barney had just launched into "A Googaplex Bottles of Pop on the Wall," but had decided to start with two Googaplexes, because all children, Captain Solo included, should know how to count. Gazing across the crowded hall, the monkey lizard noted the assembled court of the galaxies scum sticking digits into auditory orifices, turning up sound filters on helmets and shrieking in horror, begging for assasination assigments, terrorist contracts, grocery lists, anything to get them out of this chamber of horrors. Except the Gamoreans, who debated what a Googaplex was, and if it was edible. From below, Solo continued to scream.   
  
Suddenly, a flash caught Crumb's eye. It was Boba Fett, . . . dancing. Apparently he had found a groove, somewhere is the stuffing-headed reptile's insipid, saccharine song.   
  
C-3PO shook his head. Poor General Solo.  
  
"Please! Make it STOP! MAKE IT STOP!!!"  
  
Jabba laughed, then began waddling his shoulders, in time to Fett's head-banging jig. The droid sighed.  
  
"We're doomed."

 

 


End file.
